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Thursday, December 23, 2010

I really did grow some balls.

When I was pregnant, before Jake knew we were having a boy, he told me once to "grow some balls." I thought to myself, "I AM!" and laughed out loud, as I knew that our baby was a male.

Truthfully, I can be a total pushover. I don't always see it as a bad thing, because a lot of the time, when I am being a pushover, it's for things that really aren't important, like what movie to see, or where to eat lunch, or whether we should go to one store instead of another. If I know someone is set on something, but I want something else, normally, I'll let it up. A nice way to say that would be a people pleaser, I guess.

But I can be very passive. I let things slide, and sometimes I really don't stick up for myself.

Well, that's starting to change, at least in some areas.

As you may know, our upstairs neighbors drive me nuts. They're loud, especially the girl. They stomp, yell, drop or throw things, pretty frequently. The other morning they woke me at 5am. This morning, I heard them doing that all at 6:15am.

Tonight, the guy came home, and no sooner than I heard the door close, I heard her yelling and screaming and swearing and stomping, and then of course, he did the same. I let it continue for ten minutes before I took the broom to my ceiling. Normally, this gets their attention for at least a little while and I have some peace. It didn't, and they kept on. Well, that woke up Spencer, and then the dog started getting uptight. So I tried one more time. No use.

I decided to call the cops.

Jake has called the cops on them for this sort of thing before, sometimes it sounds like they're throwing things or getting violent as well as loud, so it's partially out of their safety, but also because they're a bother to us.

Usually, I just let them continue and I fume silently or vent on facebook about the nuisance.

After Spencer was born, I became a little more ballsy, though. I wrote a letter to the landlord. I put a note on the door asking them to be quiet in the hallway. When she didn't respect that request and was yelling outside my door before six one morning, I opened the door and had words with her.

And tonight, for the first time, I called the cops.

I realized afterward that I have become a little more aggressive, ballsy, or brave after having my son, at least when it affects my family and their well-being. I want him to grow up in a loving household environment, not one that's volatile and full of hostility and anger. Sure, they don't live in our apartment, but when we can hear them very clearly through the floor, it's like they do. Spencer doesn't need that in his up-bringing. I find that I won't stand for that.

So, sure, I might still be a pushover and people pleaser, but I'm working on changing that, at least when it's really important.